The Ghosts Of Wayne Manor
by Frog1
Summary: Based on Chris Dee's CatTails... a look into the afterlife of Gotham City. Please read
1. A Mother's Determination

Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman, or   
any other Gotham City Characters,they belong   
to DC comics. I also do not own "Some   
Enchanted Evening,"Rogers @ Hammerstein does.   
Chris Dee, however, came up with this version  
Of Gotham City, and I am extremely thankful   
that she allowed me to use her Cat-Tails   
timeline. Also, I borrowed a little from her   
first story "A Girl's Gotta Protect Her   
Reputation, so if it looks familiar it's   
probably from that story. This is story is   
based on her Cat-Tails stories seen through   
the eyes of the ghosts of Wayne Manor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A Mother's Determination  
  
  
  
  
By Frog  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Timeline: A couple of months before the events of   
"A Girl's Gotta Protect Her Reputation."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Place: Wayne Manor  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Alfred was passing by the main doorway on his way into   
the kitchen, when a strong draft opened the door from the   
outside. Shaking his head with despair, he muttered, "Blasted door   
always opens from the slightest breeze!" As he closed the door,   
he momentarily wondered how the door could open, when there   
was no wind outside. "Stuff, and nonsense!" Alfred once again   
muttered, "You're getting as paranoid as the master, old man!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The mysterious breeze sailed through the dark corridors   
of the mansion, until it opened the door to a small, un-used   
Victorian parlor. Inside the room, a dark-haired man with a   
mustache and a dark suit was reading a book in the twilight   
that came into the room despite the dirty windows. The man   
looked up as he heard the door, open and closed mysteriously,   
"Martha, where have you been?" he asked.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, a blonde-haired young woman, with a 1950's   
dress and pearls around her neck appeared out of thin air,   
"I have been watching Mrs. Peterson ooh and ahh over her   
latest grandchild," she answered with frustration, "Thomas,   
I have had it! It's high time Bruce settles down,   
gets married, and has children!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sighing with regret, Thomas Wayne closed the book,   
"Darling, he does have children," he reassured her, " He   
finally adopted Richard a few months ago, he adopted Jason   
before...well, before he came to join us, and even Timothy   
is part of this family. I bet if Jack Drake was not living,   
he would adopt him as well in a heartbeat!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Thomas, what you say is true, but you forget,"   
Martha informed as she began to count off the reasons   
with her fingers, "One: Richard is an adult now, and   
has his own life. Two: Jason is dead, and we are the   
ones who are 'raising' him at the moment. And finally,   
Timothy is nearly an adult, despite having a father   
who is ruining his second chance to have a relationship   
with his son!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You're right Martha," he said with a sigh,   
"But, if we just gave him some time..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"He has had enough time!" she shouted with fury,   
"I am sick and tired of watching Bruce wallowing in   
self-guilt and misery! I am sick of watching our 'living   
friends' gush over their grandchildren! And I am   
particularly sick of trying to be a hostess at Wayne   
functions! Every time Bruce throws a party here, disaster   
follows, and no one can see or hear me because I am dead!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, I can certainly hear you. In fact, I can   
hear you all the way down in the cave," stated a young voice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Both adults turned toward the wall as Jason Todd came   
through wearing his bloody, Robin suit. "What's going on?" he   
questioned them, "Bruce is starting to wonder if someone has   
sneaked into the Bat Cave, because he keeps hearing a loud wail."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"It's your grandmother, she wants your father married,"   
Thomas explained to his grandson.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jason stared in amazement at Martha, then burst out in   
laughter. As he laughed, he sputtered out, "Who...who would   
want him? According to the women he dates; he is the most anal,   
frustrating, arrogant man on the planet!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"And just where have you heard this?" she asked her   
grandson with fury.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jason gave her a look of pure innocence when he replied,   
"Oh...I just happened to overhear conversations when the women   
are dumping him, it's not my fault! I was just hanging around...  
it's not my fault no one can see me!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha gritted her teeth in anger as her husband chuckled,   
"I am afraid he is right, despite how he acquired this information.   
Who would want him?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Really," she sarcastically replied, "That is what people told   
me about you, Thomas!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As he started to protest and her grandson laughed even more,   
she disappeared from sight with a loud shout, "Men!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha Wayne muttered with frustration as she flew with her   
son across the rooftops of Gotham City, "Vicki Vale? No...she's in   
England dating a duke. Talia? No...she's as mad as her father."   
She sighed with weariness as she landed on a rooftop along with her   
son, "Lord," she prayed as she looked up to the sky, "Please show   
me the one that can get my son to the alter!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't think those jewels belong to you," she heard her son say.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
With curiosity, she looked toward him and was just in time to see   
a raven-haired woman in a cat-suit saunter up to him. Martha immediately   
recognized her as Selina Kyle a.k.a. Catwoman. Suddenly, she remembered   
all of those times when that particular criminal was the only one, besides   
that Ghoul Head, to make her son go to Defcon-4. Watching with interest,   
she observed that Catwoman was running one clawed finger around the bat   
insignia on her son's chest. Despite appearance, Martha could tell that   
her son was extremely nervous around this woman.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well," purred Catwoman with a saucy smile, "I salute you World's   
Greatest Detective."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Batman caught her wandering hand and growled, "Selina."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes?" she asked nicely, and then kneed him in the groin.   
Batman grunted with pain, and released her hand, that was enough   
for the Catwoman as she flipped away from him. "Catch, me if you   
can!" she yelled to him as she jumped from the rooftop.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Batman growled in anger as he quickly followed her off   
of the roof, "Catwoman!" he shouted in fury.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha Wayne smiled and rubbed her hands in glee as she   
quickly looked up toward heaven, "Thank you!" Then quickly,   
she flew off to catch up with them.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Later that night...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina Kyle landed softly on her apartment patio,   
"Hey, Whiskers. What have you been up too?" she asked as   
she scratched his ear, "Wait, till I tell you what I have   
been...Hey!" Whiskers was backing away from her in fear,   
"What's wrong? Did I get something on my suit?" she asked   
as she opened the patio door and shook her head in confusion   
as she saw him race inside the apartment. "That's strange,"   
she muttered as she went inside.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Unbeknownst to her, Whiskers could see what she could not,   
the ghost of a very happy woman who was floating above her porch.   
"Hello, daughter-in-law!" Martha Wayne shouted with glee and then   
frowned in thought, "Now, how on Earth am I going to get   
them together?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A month later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Both Thomas and Jason winced in pain as the sounds of the old   
fashioned recorder filled the attic of Wayne Mayor with music. As   
they made they're way toward the attic, Jason muttered, "If I have to   
hear "Some Enchanted Evening" one more time..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I know, I know," agreed Thomas, "Martha!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
But, Martha Wayne did not hear her husband's shout. She   
continued to pace the confines of the attic in deep thought,   
while listening to the song:  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Some Enchanted Evening...  
When you see a stranger...  
When you see a stranger across a crowded room.  
  
When you feel him call you...  
Across a crowded room...  
And somehow you know...  
That you will see him again...  
And again...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Rolling his eyes in frustration, Jason finally stopped the   
music by kicking the recorder into the wall.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jason, really!" she shouted, "That was a valuable recorder   
as well as record!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sorry, but you're waking the dead with that music!" he   
yelled back as he took a seat on the floor, and began to casually   
go through a book with old newspaper clippings.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Before Martha could lecture him further, her husband stopped   
her by saying, "Darling, you have been up here for a month trying to   
plan this crazy match-making scheme. Why don't you forget about it   
and let our son try to court her on his own?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Forget it about it! No way Thomas Bruce Wayne!" she protested,   
"And as for him trying to court her on his own, he would not know the   
first thing about how to court a woman!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Martha!" he shouted as he finally lost his temper, "He's my   
son! He should know..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"He does not know! We died before he was six remember?   
And Alfred has had no luck in teaching the boy on how to properly   
court a woman!" she argued with fury.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I hate to interrupt you guys," Jason sarcastically chimed   
in as he held up an old newspaper article, "But could one of you   
please explain this?"   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Taking the article from him, Thomas quickly read it and   
explained, "Oh, that's an old society article on my great-great-  
aunt Louise Wayne. She was accused of having an affair with   
Ronald Luthor, who was a married man.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Did she have an affair with him?" Jason asked   
with curiosity.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"No!" protested Thomas, "That was merely a concoction   
of Luthor to ruin the reputation of the Wayne Family; but he   
failed. Louise Wayne defended her reputation by claiming and   
providing proof that she was in Europe as a nurse helping with   
the Crimean War at the time Luthor claimed this affair happened."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"That's it!" she shouted with excitement.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Startled at her shout, the two males looked at her with   
bewilderment, "What?" asked Jason with confusion.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh, you'll see!" laughed Martha as she disappeared   
into thin air.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jason and Thomas stared at each other in amazement,   
"What do you think she's up too?" questioned Jason to his   
grandfather.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't know," he admitted, "And I am not sure that   
I want to know."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
************************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A week later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Gabrielle silently picked the lock and disconnected the alarm   
to the door of a local grocery store; she was unawares that she was   
being watched from the air. "It's taken me a week trying to find the   
perfect girl who is a low-level burglar, but now that I have..."  
muttered Martha Wayne. Once she was certain that the young girl was   
in the store, the spirit silently reconnected the alarm system and   
making it go off at this nearest police station. With a sly grin   
she whispered, "I knew spending time watching Bruce fooling around   
with alarm systems would come in handy one day!" Then with a chuckle   
of utter delight, she flew off toward the Gotham Post.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A few moments later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha observed Gotham Post reporter, Betsy Carlton, typing   
away on her computer, "Mmm..." she muttered, "Ms. Carlton apparently   
has her police scanner off...well...I'll fix that!" Silently, Martha   
turned the police scanner on and quickly programmed it to the proper   
frequency that she wanted.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Wha...how did that come on?" wondered Ms. Carlton as she   
stopped typing. Before she could turn the scanner off, she overheard,   
"Arrest in progress...suspect a woman in her thirties...suspected   
cat-burglar..." That was all of the conversation that the enterprising   
reporter needed to hear, as she quickly gathered her things   
and raced out the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha Wayne wiped her hands in satisfaction, "Trap laid and set!"   
she shouted with glee, "Now if that young woman is as feisty as I think   
she is...she will not allow that particular blood-thirsty reporter to ruin   
her reputation!" Then with triumph smile, Martha Wayne headed for home.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A few weeks later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"It worked!" shouted a delighted Martha Wayne with a newspaper   
in her hand as she came into the little Victorian parlor where her   
husband and grandson where playing checkers in the twilight.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"What worked?" asked Jason with curiosity.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Smiling with delight, she laid the newspaper before them and   
pointed to a particular article. With confusion they quickly read   
the article under Stage Views:  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CATWOMAN PURRS  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They say God writes lousy theatre. They haven't been to off-  
Broadway's Hijinx Playhouse lately, where Selina Kyle, purporting   
to be one of Gotham's most mysterious costumed nightcrawlers,   
The Catwoman, is currently starring in a one-woman show: Cat-Tails.   
For nearly two hours the buxom but athletic brunette, draped in a   
skin-tight purple catsuit that leaves precious little to the   
imagination, enthralled the audience with anecdotes about a   
nightlife we all know exists in this city but few of us have   
encountered firsthand.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ms. Kyle is certainly a striking figure. She purrs, hisses,   
meows and probably scratches with the best of them. She does   
a mean backflip, and this reviewer certainly wouldn't want to   
find himself in a dark alley on the receiving end of the claws   
she brandishes or the whip she wields with expert precision.   
The tales she tells about Gotham after dark and the figures that   
populate it are both amusing and insightful. But is she really   
Catwoman?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
That's the question on everyone's lips at intermission: If   
she isn't, she's taking a hell of a risk, says one camp; the real   
Catwoman isn't likely to approve of someone else profiting from   
her name and image. If she is, she's taking a hell of a risk,   
comes the reply, publicly confessing to any number of felonies   
six nights a week, two matinees.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It's the uncertainty that sells tickets, so of course there's   
nothing in the show to settle the question once and for all.   
To be sure, Ms. Kyle's monologue includes some knowledgeable   
details about breaking into an unnamed Penthouse, but it wouldn't   
take much research into security systems to construct such a   
narrative once the facts of a crime were known. If authorities   
did charge Ms. Kyle and she claimed to be merely an actress playing   
a role, they'd be hard-pressed to prove otherwise. Of course the   
next most-asked question about this show is "What about Batman?"   
  
(continued on E-5)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha smiled with cunning and happiness as the two men of   
her ghostly life gaped at her in amazement after reading the article,   
answering their unspoken question, "He's going to see her tonight,"   
then she paused as she delivered the punch line, "Again! Let this be   
a lesson to you two...never underestimate a mother's love or determination!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The End 


	2. Anything But Normal

Anything But Normal  
  
  
By Frog  
  
  
  
Time Line: During the Events of "Normal"  
  
  
  
Place: The Library in Wayne Manor...  
Time: 4:00 A.M.  
  
  
  
Thomas and Martha Wayne looked on with concern as they stared   
at their son forming a pile of wadded paper beneath his feet. He   
was sitting at his desk, attempting to write something, yet   
apparently he was having no success whatsoever. "What on Earth   
is that boy up too?" asked Thomas to his wife.  
  
  
  
"I do not know, but I am going to find out!" she replied,   
"Ten to one it has something to do with our daughter...  
(cough)...I mean with Selina."  
  
  
  
"Martha!" yelled Thomas as he watched her go over to   
their son and looked over his shoulder, "Haven't you meddle   
enough with our son's life?"  
  
  
  
"Not nearly enough," she answered back to him, "I do   
not hear the pitter-patter of little feet, and do you?"  
  
  
  
Thomas sighed with exasperation, "Now I know where   
our son gets his obsessive tendencies," he told her   
with weariness.  
  
  
  
"Thomas!" she protested, "I am not obsessive! I'm...  
  
  
  
"Just a concerned mother who wants her son's   
happiness," he finished sarcastically.  
  
  
  
"Exactly!" she stated to him.  
  
  
  
Thomas sighed once again, "I'll be in the coffin,   
sleeping, when your finished with your meddling," he   
told her, and then left the room by passing through   
the window.  
  
  
  
"Hmph!" muttered Martha, "Now dear, let's see what   
your writing..."  
  
  
  
As she read over his shoulder, she muttered, "I was   
right, it is my future daughter-in-law! Hmm...darling,   
I do not believe that: 'Catwoman, Opera House: 9:00 p.m.'   
is the proper form to ask her out on a date."  
  
  
  
"This isn't right, too commanding," commented   
Bruce Wayne as tossed the invention to the floor and   
reached out for a new sheet of paper.  
  
  
  
"Try something more endearing," suggested his mother,   
"Such as Good Morning, Catwoman."  
  
  
  
"Good Morning, Kitten," he muttered as he wrote the   
sentence on the paper.  
  
  
  
"That's the right idea, my boy!" shouted Martha with   
glee as she kissed his forehead.  
  
  
  
Bruce frowned as he rubbed his forehead, "Strange...  
it's freezing in here, so suddenly," he muttered as he   
went to the fireplace to start a fire.  
  
  
  
"Oops! I am sorry," apologized his mother, "I forgot that   
ghosts tend to give off cold spots when they are highly   
emotional or touching the living. No matter, hopefully I'll   
have you to the alter before Richard marries that lovely   
red-head girl that he's had an eye on for quite some time."  
  
  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
The next mourning...In Alfred's kitchen...  
  
  
  
  
Jason sighed with regret as he watched Alfred fix   
his favorite, chocolate- chip pancakes. His 'younger   
brother,' Tim Drake, was eagerly looking forward to his   
breakfast before his day at Brentwood.  
  
  
  
"Thanks for letting me stay over here while my Father   
and Dana are away, again," Tim Drake told the elderly butler.  
  
  
  
"It's no bother, Master Tim," he reassured the young   
Robin as he thought, 'It's so nice to cook for someone other   
than Master Bruce again.'  
  
  
  
"Thanks, Alfred," he told Alfred as he sat the pancakes   
before his young master.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, thanks Alfred," Jason sarcastically told him, even   
though no one in the room could hear him, "I just love watching   
someone else eat my favorite meal! Man...I cannot wait   
for Halloween!"  
  
  
  
Before Jason could complain further, Bruce came into the   
kitchen, "Master Bruce!" exclaimed Alfred with surprise.  
  
  
  
"Bruce!" echoed Jason and Tim, "What are you doing up   
this early?"  
  
  
  
"I have got to do something this morning," he answered as   
he hurriedly glanced at his watch, "In fact, I better hurry if   
I want to bump into her...uh...I mean...I'll see you later,   
Alfred, Tim!" Then he raced out of the kitchen door like a   
bat out of hell.  
  
  
  
"What was that about, Alfred?" asked Tim, "Does it have   
to do with Catwoman?"  
  
  
  
"You bet your Robin suit it has do with Catwoman!"   
shouted Jason.  
  
  
  
"I am not privileged to know what is going on with   
Master Bruce's mind, Master Tim," answered Alfred.  
  
  
  
  
"Whatever," commented Tim, "But, I bet my Robin suit   
it has to do with her."  
  
  
  
"That's just what I said!" yelled Jason,   
"Little brothers, always...  
  
  
  
But before he could finish his statement, the kitchen door   
opened quite unexpectedly. "My word!" bellowed Alfred as he went   
to close the door, "What is it with these doors and windows?  
  
  
  
"Maybe, it's the wind," suggested Tim.  
  
  
  
"It's no wind, little bro," stated Jason as he gazed at the   
apparition of Janet Drake, "It's your mother."  
  
  
  
Janet Drake smiled with sadness as she greeted the other   
spirit, "Hello, Jason."  
  
  
  
The ghosts were completely unnoticed by Alfred,   
and Tim as they continued their conversation, "If I   
were a superstitious man, I would say this house was   
haunted!" Alfred told his young charge, "But I am not   
a superstitious man!"  
  
  
  
Jason rolled his eyes at Alfred's white lie, "You keep   
saying that Alfred, maybe you'll believe it," he told him   
and then directed his attention to the other ghost, "What are   
you doing here, Janet? I thought you were charged to haunt   
near your former husband and his new wife."  
  
  
  
"Not really, Jason," she told him sadly, "I am only   
charged to wander the Earth until the end of time. But   
since Jack and Dana choose to travel the globe, instead of   
staying in Gotham, I tend to stay with them in order to   
support Dana. Is your grandmother, here?" She asked,   
as she went to her son to give him a hug.  
  
  
  
"Brrr," stated Tim, "It's suddenly so cold in here."  
  
  
  
"Indeed," commented Alfred as he tried not to look   
around his kitchen in fear.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, follow me" he replied as he gestured to the door,   
"She's resting, but I am sure she will see you."  
  
  
  
Smiling in appreciation, Janet, took one last   
fond look at her son and then followed the young   
ghost as he opened the door.  
  
  
  
"Bother!" shouted Alfred as he noticed the kitchen   
door opening once again.  
  
  
  
Tim tried not to laugh as he watched Alfred close   
the door once again, "Blasted ghosts," muttered Alfred   
with frustration.  
  
  
  
"What was that, Alfred?" Tim asked innocently.  
  
  
  
"Nothing!" he protested, "Nothing at all, sir!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jason and Janet floated toward the Wayne Cemetery   
which was located on a hill overlooking the manor, as   
they neared Thomas and Martha Wayne's tombstone, Jason   
called out: "Hey, Grandma Martha!"  
  
  
  
"Quiet, boy!" yelled a male voice from a nearby grave,   
"Some of us are trying to rest in peace!"  
  
  
  
"Sorry, Grandpa Solomon," muttered Jason sheepishly,   
when he reached the grave of his grandparents, he knocked   
on their tombstone. "Grandma, Janet Drake is here to see you."  
  
  
  
(Yawn) "Okay, Jason...I'm up," muttered the sleepy voice   
of Martha Wayne as she floated up from her grave.  
  
  
  
Once she become fully awake, she noticed immediately her   
grandson's tired eyes, "Jason Todd Wayne! Why are you not   
resting? You'll be no use to anyone if you do not rest!" she   
scolded to him.  
  
  
  
"I'm not tired," protested Jason.  
  
  
  
"Not tired, my fanny!" yelled Martha.  
  
  
  
"Quiet!" shouted the voice of Solomon Wayne again,   
"Jason, go to sleep! You can bother the living later!"  
  
  
  
"But..." the young ghost tried to protest.  
  
  
  
  
"Now!" ordered Solomon in a tone that resembled   
his descendent the Batman.  
  
  
  
  
Muttering a curse, Jason laid down into his grave that   
was next to his grandmother. "Now that situation has been   
resolved, let's go down to the garden and we can have a nice   
chat," Martha told Janet and then muttered softly, "Before   
that old goat rolls in his grave."  
  
  
  
"I heard that!" yelled Solomon Wayne.  
  
  
  
Martha rolled her eyes in weariness, as Janet Drake tried   
to cover her laughter by coughing, "Yes, Solomon," she told   
him as she whispered even more quietly, "Old coot has ears   
like a bat!"  
  
  
  
"Considering who your son is, you should not be surprised!"   
he barked to her, "Now get out of here, and find out what that   
young lady wants! And while you're up, get Bruce or Richard   
married! I really do not care at this point which one, as long   
as there are more children with the last name of Wayne!"  
  
  
  
Martha rolled her eyes heavenward once again as she whispered   
in Janet's ear, "We won't tell the old bat that Richard and   
Barbara's kids will be Graysons."  
  
  
  
"What?" bellowed Solomon as he rose up out of his grave to   
confront Martha, Janet gasped with amazement as she took her   
first look at the Wayne ancestor. He appeared to be an old man   
in 19th century black clothing; however his skin was so wrinkled   
that it showed off his old bones quite well.  
  
  
  
His sunken eyes gave Martha a dirty look as he asked,   
"What do you mean that Richard is not a Wayne! Bruce loves   
the boy doesn't he?  
  
  
  
"Well, yes," she replied with fear.  
  
  
  
"He adopted the boy, didn't he? Made him his heir?"   
questioned Solomon as he tried to make a point to Martha.  
  
  
  
"Yes," she replied once again.  
  
  
  
"Then he is a Wayne!" he bellowed, "Now get out of here!   
Get those two foolish descendents of mine, married! You should   
have arranged a marriage for them a long time ago!"  
  
  
  
"I am working on it!" shouted Martha as she and Janet   
left the cemetery, "On both of them! Particularly, Bruce!"  
  
  
  
"Good!" he yelled back, and then he went back to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
Once they were in the garden, Martha continued to mutter,   
"Crazy old coot! This no longer the nineteenth century, when   
arranged marriages were more common! (Sigh) Forgive me, Janet.   
Dealing with old Solomon Wayne always gets me worked up,   
now...what is the problem?"  
  
  
  
Janet sighed with sadness and regret as she looked over   
Alfred's prize-winning rose bush, "It's Dana, she wants a   
child with Jack," she told her friend.  
  
  
  
"Well, that's wonderful! Isn't it?" she asked.  
  
  
  
"Yes," admitted Janet as she turned to face the other  
woman, "It's just..."  
  
  
  
"You're afraid that Dana will make the same mistakes   
you did with Tim," finished Martha.  
  
  
  
"Exactly!" she shouted, "I'm afraid that Dana will be   
so wrapped up with Jack that she will forget the child!   
And I must be honest, Jack is already screwing up his second   
chance to have a relationship with Tim, what will he do if   
he has another child? Leave it in the care of servants or   
Alfred, as he and I did with Tim?"  
  
  
  
"Well, that is true," admitted Martha, "Can you not   
go into Dana's dreams to warn her what might happen?"  
  
  
  
Janet waved a hand with regret as she replied, "I've   
already tried that, but her mind is too blocked up at the   
moment! Martha, what can I do?"  
  
  
  
Martha sighed with sadness as she drew her friend into   
a hug, "I don't know, Janet. Just keep trying, and do what   
I do with the problems that come up with the living members   
of my family," she told her.  
  
  
  
"And what is that?" she questioned through her tears.  
  
  
  
"Pray," replied Martha.  
  
  
  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
Later that night, in the old Victorian parlor...  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha sighed with weariness as she came into the   
room, "My word!" she muttered.  
  
  
  
Hearing his wife, Thomas looked up from the book   
he was reading under an old gas lantern, "How's   
Janet?" he asked.  
  
  
  
"Not good," she replied as she sat down, "It has   
taken me all day to calm her down!"  
  
  
  
"Poor girl," he said with sadness, "She is so   
filled with regret over what she had done in life,   
that she can not get use to her unearthly   
existence now."  
  
  
  
"We were just like her at one time, Thomas,"   
she reminded her husband.  
  
  
  
"True," he agreed, "But, not to such an extant as Janet."  
  
  
  
"True," she told him sadly, "So, very true."  
  
  
  
Suddenly, Jason appeared in the room, "You're not going   
to believe this!"  
  
  
  
The two grandparents looked at each other in wonder,   
and then at him, "What?" they asked.  
  
  
  
"Grandma, do you remember that you told me that you   
wanted me to follow Bruce on his first date with Selina,"   
began Jason.  
  
  
  
"Martha!" yelled her husband sternly to her.  
  
  
  
"What, Thomas?" she asked him innocently, "I am   
just a concerned mother..."  
  
  
  
"A concerned mother who wants to know that her   
matchmaking plan is working," he told her sarcastically.  
  
  
  
"Anyway," interrupted Jason, "Bruce, finally,   
admitted to Selina that he wanted a relationship   
with her. And Selina, kissed him on the cheek..."  
  
  
  
But before he could finished, Martha shouted in  
jubilee and hugged her grandson tightly, "Yes, it's   
working! No more hosting disastrous parties! No more   
watching our 'living' friends with envy! And, no more   
of Solomon Wayne's dirty looks!"  
  
  
  
"Grandma!" yelped Jason, "You're crushing me!"  
  
  
  
"Sorry, dear," she told him and then continued   
with her joyous rant, "The pitter-patter of little   
feet, I can hear them now! I must start thinking on   
how I can help her with the wedding!"  
  
  
  
While Martha ranted, Thomas looked heavenward,   
"Help!" he softly pleaded.  
  
  
  
"What was that dear?" she asked as she stopped   
her rant and gave him a glare that was identical   
to her son's bat glare.  
  
  
  
"Nothing, darling," he reassured her, "Just   
thinking how things around here are going to be   
anything but normal from now on."  
  
  
  
  
  
The End 


	3. Thank Heaven!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters someone  
else does, also I have taken a part of "Catfight"   
by Chris Dee for this storyline, so the part that   
I'll use belongs to her as well as the entire   
Cat-Tails Universe.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thank Heaven!  
  
  
  
  
By Frog  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Time: A couple of months after "Normal" and set during   
the events of "Catfight" in the Cat-Tails universe in   
early September.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Place: In the old Victorian Parlor in Wayne Manor.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas Wayne was busy home-schooling his grandson, Jason Todd,   
while Martha Wayne sighed with contentment as she knitted a scarf for   
Kittlemeier's shop. Several years ago, she and Thomas met Kittlemeier   
when he was first starting his 'unusual' shop in Gotham, at the time   
they discovered that Kittlemeier was one of the few people in the world   
who can see as well as interact with ghost outside of Halloween.   
Kittlemeier proposed to the Waynes as well as to several other ghosts   
in the area that if they were willing to work for him, he would be   
willing to give them money to spend on Halloween.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ever since that time, Kittlemeier had become a great friend and   
benefactor to the ghostly community, particular with the inventions of   
the computer and the internet. By using the internet connection in his   
shop, ghosts could gain 'living identities' and do what they could only   
do on Halloween, interact with the living.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
With these thoughts in mind, Martha mused, 'Amazing how things have   
changed, it used to be that ghosts had no way of interacting but one day of   
the year; now we can shop, play the stock market, or continue our education   
online. I realize that I do not have to work for Kittlemeier anymore,   
but with no little ones to knit or sew for, yet! It gives me something to do.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Grandma," Jason said as he interrupted her thoughts.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes, dear?" she asked as she continued her knitting.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Grandpa is telling me that you were one of the first   
women to advocated for civil rights in the fifties, is that   
true?" he questioned her.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes, Jason, it is," Martha replied, "Back in those days,   
black and white were segregated to such extremes, particular   
in the South."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Did they really lynch the black people in the South?"   
Jason continued to ask his grandparents.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes, Jason," Thomas answered this time, "Remind me to take   
you to visit the Randolphs some time, they can tell you from personal   
experience about the dreadful influence that the KKK had on the   
Southern states. Fortunately, peace has finally settled to a degree   
in the deep South."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I do not believe this!" bellowed a familiar voice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Speaking of peace, or in this case wishing for some,"   
muttered Martha with dread.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas sighed with regret as he commented; "It appears that Old   
Grandpa Solomon has found that newspaper that we have hidden from him."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"At least he hasn't found it until now," reassured Jason,   
"You keep it from him for nearly a year."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"True," admitted Martha, "The entire family managed to keep that   
particular newspaper away from him. Unfortunately, all good things..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The door to the parlor burst open with a fury and then fleshy skeleton   
of Solomon Wayne appeared before them, with a rolled up old newspaper in his   
hand. "Why didn't you tell me that...that...linage of a snake was in office!"   
he shouted as shook the newspaper in his hand.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"We did not want to excite you grandfather," explained Thomas.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Excite me, hah! Do you think I am too old to handle excitement?"   
questioned Solomon Wayne.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Why no," answered Martha pleasantly, "We just decide not to tell   
you because you are always complaining on your rest being disturbed."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Disturb me?" yelled Solomon; "I have not had a decent rest   
since Bruce turned eighteen! He should have been married by then!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Not this again," muttered Thomas with weariness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Solomon turned his anger on his descendent, "At least your   
wife is attempting to do something about it! What have you been   
doing to help her?" he asked.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Uhmm," he stammered as he tried to think of something.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Exactly what I thought, nothing!" he yelled in anger, "Well,   
while Martha, Jason, and I go on a trip to wake up several influential   
former presidents about that there is a Luthorian snake in the White   
House, your going to keep an eye on Bruce and what's that girl's name...  
(snap) Selina!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"What?" shouted Martha, Thomas, and Jason in shock.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You heard me," snapped Solomon as he pointed Martha, "Martha, you're   
always complaining about needing a vacation, well, now you're getting one!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I did not have you in mind when I was dreaming of a vacation!"   
she protested to him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Deal with it!" he commanded, "Jason, this will help your education   
as well as give cultural experience..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"But, I can get that kind of stuff right here!" whined Jason as he thought,   
'And I really do not want to miss the fireworks when Babs finds out that Dick   
slept with the Huntress.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"No, you can not!" Solomon sternly told him, and then finally turned his   
attention on Thomas, "And you need to help more in insuring the Wayne line!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"But, Grandfather!" protested Thomas.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Don't you grandfather, me!" lectured Solomon, "You make sure that   
your son does not screw up with that girl, while were visiting all of the   
dead presidents..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"All of them!" yelled Martha and Jason, while Thomas shouted,   
"He will not screw up!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Let me finish!" bellowed Solomon Wayne, "Yes, all of them! And   
Thomas, You and I know good and well that Bruce will act like a damm   
fool sooner, or later! You're going to make sure those apologies are  
appropriately, and that he continues his relationship with her! If at   
all possible, I want see them at the alter before Christmas!  
Do I make myself clear, Thomas?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes, Grandfather," Thomas, muttered in weary agreement.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Good!" yelled Solomon, "We're leaving as soon as I can make   
the arrangements!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The next day, at the Old Gotham Train Depot...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To all appearances the old train depot was an abandoned 19th century   
bricked building that had yet to be re-stored by the local historical society.   
But in reality, the train depot was as busy as it was back in those days so   
long ago. Ghosts of all kinds used the depot as a transportation to travel   
across the country; of course, it helped that the trains carrying them as   
supernatural as the ghosts themselves.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"All, aboard!" yelled the ghostly conductor, "Train 36 bound for   
Metropolis, Philadelphia, and all points in between before crashing into   
the Boston station will leave in five minutes! All, aboard!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Martha!" bellowed Solomon Wayne as he and Jason made their way   
to Train 36, "Hurry, up!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Are we really going to crash into the Boston station, Grandpa   
Solomon?" Jason asked as he heaved the heavy luggage toward the train.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Of course, we will," answered Solomon, "Train 36 crashed into the Boston   
station in 1859, killing everyone on board. I remembered that day very well; I   
was scheduled to go to Boston for a meeting with my father-in-law about the   
upcoming presidential election. Fortunately, my wife and your grandmother went   
into labor before I left the station, unfortunately she gave birth to a stillborn   
boy. But, she did save my life! Jason, let the porter take the baggage!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As Jason handed the heavy luggage to the porter, he asked, "Whatever   
happened to Grandma Alice?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Solomon coughed as he replied, "Well, our marriage was an arranged one   
and as soon as the opportunity had been presented to her, she decided to be   
re-incarnated as the daughter of Theodore Roosevelt. Since then, she has been   
through so many re-incarnations in order to find true love that I've lost track   
on where she is now. Anyway, what is keeping that woman? Martha!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" yelled Martha as she and her husband raced   
up toward them.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I can't understand why you two act as though your still on your   
honeymoon!" he told them with disgust, "C'mon, boy!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jason shrugged as he watched his adopted ancestor board the train,   
"I don't understand it either, but then I am just a kid," he told Solomon.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hmph, remind me to find you some decent clothes when we reach Boston,"   
he told Jason as he watched the boy hop on board.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(Sigh) "Grumpy, old bat!" whispered Martha, "Are you sure you   
will be all right, darling?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas smiled as he gave his wife a gentle kiss on her lips,   
he then answered, "I will, my dear. How hard can it be to watch   
Bruce as well as Richard court a woman correctly?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Martha rolled her eyes in disgust, "You'll find out..." she told him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Martha! Grandma!" yelled both Jason and Solomon through the open   
window of the train.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Heaven help me," muttered Martha, "Good-bye, Thomas! I'll see you   
the week before Halloween!" Then she raced toward the platform.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Good-bye, darling!" yelled Thomas, "Keep an eye on Jason, and   
don't let that old bat get to you!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I heard that!" bellowed Solomon Wayne, right before the train   
left the station.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*******************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A month later...early October...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Heaven help me," muttered Thomas as he sat wearily in a chair near   
the fireplace in the study.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, beside him, stood the ghost of a dark-haired young woman in   
a 19th century nurse's uniform, "Thomas, are you all right?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas jumped in surprise, "Aunt Louise! I thought you would not be   
showing up until Halloween.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well, I ran into Martha and Jason in New York City. Martha heard the   
news about what was happening in Gotham with Talia Head and Lex Corp; she   
asked if I could come and see if I could help you," she told him as she stared   
down at him with her emerald eyes.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas stared up at her, and asked as he stretched out his legs,   
"Did you see the grumpy, old bat?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"If you mean my father, no. Martha told me he was visiting the Roosevelts   
in Hyde Park and you're stalling Thomas," she sternly told him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(Sigh) "Where do you want me to start?" he asked, "Richard having an affair   
with that Huntress woman, Talia throwing herself at Bruce, or Selina having a   
'hissing' fit as the result of Talia's...seduction techniques."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You forgot she is starting a war with Waynetech on behalf of Lex Luthor,"   
she reminded him as she spat out Luthor's name in disgust.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"That too," agreed Thomas, "On top of that, I can't seem to get through to   
Bruce. He's mentally blocking me, and the only time I can get into his dreams is   
when I am being murder all over again."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Louise smiled in sympathy, "Well, give him some time...I am certain that   
sooner or later, he will come to you," she told him.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas smiled at her attempt of reassurance, "Thank you, Aunt Louise.   
But, tell me...when did you tell Grandpa Solomon that you're in love with   
a Russian Prince?" he asked.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I haven't," admitted Louise, "And until things in Russia are straighten   
out, both Alexander and I will not be re-incarnated or tell my father."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"He's going to find out some time," he muttered.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Not if I can help it!" protested Louise.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, the door to the library swung open as Bruce Wayne strolled   
thoughtfully in the room, sat in his desk chair and gazed at the portrait of   
his parents above the fireplace. "Mmm, it appears Bruce is ready to listen   
to you," she commented, "I'll just leave you two alone to talk." Then she   
disappeared from the room. Thomas got up from his chair near the fireplace   
and strolled over to his son who by now was gazing at a silver-framed photo   
of Thomas Wayne taken on the day before his murder. "I need some advice, Dad.   
I've got girl trouble," he told the photo.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'Really, I didn't notice,' he thought sarcastically as he outwardly   
gave his son a look of mock concern, but unable to keep a delighted smile   
off of his face. "Well it's about time, Bruce," he told his son, "Your   
mother and I were starting to worry that those 'bimbos' I think you call   
them, were going to sour you on the benefits of a real loving relationship   
with a woman. And incidentally, son, 'bimbo' is not a proper way to refer   
to any woman. Not everyone has had the advantages you've had, and certainly   
not everyone is gifted with the intelligence you are, but you still treat   
them with respect."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes, sir," he spoke respectfully to his elder.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Alright then," continued Thomas, "We've been meaning to speak   
to you about that for a while now. Your mother would have killed me if   
she thought I had this talk with you and didn't say something."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"She would?" Bruce asked in amazement.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas replied, "Of course she would, where do you think you got that   
tendency to obsess over injustice night and day until it's corrected? That's   
your mother...also your temper. The detective skills, those are mine, medical   
diagnosis is mostly about watching and listening and drawing conclusions.   
Don't tell me you didn't know that..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I remember, Dad," he told him, "You told me that before he   
became a writer, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had studied medicine, and   
that Sherlock Holmes's methods were based on those of his professors   
in med school."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Good lad," he proudly stated, "I didn't know you were paying attention   
that day. I guess you couldn't be hearing me say any of this if you didn't   
already know," While he said this, Thomas also thought at the same time,   
'Or in desperate need of advice that you're willing to listen to your old man.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I guess," admitted Bruce, "Look Dad, here's the thing - Selina,   
she's got a temper too. We seem to set each other off - I don't know   
maybe it's force of habit, we were fighting a long time..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Son," he tried to explain, " It's passion. It's a good thing;   
trust me on this. Raising their voices, it means they care. If you can   
upset her that much, it's a sign that she's wild about you."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"So you think it's not just a cat-thing?" questioned Bruce.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"A cat-thing?" his father innocently asked while he remembered   
when Martha first mentioned Catwoman to him, and her insane matchmaking   
plan to get their son down the alter with the woman.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Dad, Selina is Catwoman, I'm Batman. We were enemies for a lot of   
years. If I had a nickel for every time I said I'd take her down and she   
tried to flay me with that whip while I tried to get the cuffs on her- "   
Bruce trailed off on his explanation as he realized what he said.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
For the first time in the conversation Thomas had a shock look   
on his face, 'I did not want to know that!' he silently thought.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"It's not as kinky as it sounds" Bruce lied and then continued   
on with the conversation.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'What is it then?' questioned Thomas silently,   
'She uses the cuffs, and you use the whip?'   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Shaking his head at this repulsive thought, he turned his attention   
back on his son who was saying, "Selina had seemed so totally on top of   
things at every turn, he hadn't fully appreciated that she was, after all,   
human. Subject to all the same insecurities as everybody else,"   
Bruce stated with amazement.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'I salute you World's Greatest Detective,' he sarcastically thought  
without realizing that he was quoting his future daughter-in-law, at the   
same time he asked his son, "Just like you come on like gangbusters in the   
JLA to mask your humanity in the face of so many meta-humans?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As he realized this, Bruce admitted, "Dad, I'm such an idiot!   
Every real blow-up we've had has been about Talia. She said - god   
I'm an idiot - I said I'm really stupid about letting bad girls into   
my life. Then she said- she said 'If you think I'm threatened by  
that little - ' I forget now, but she had it all prepared. She'd   
been waiting for me to make the comparison. Of course she's threatened.   
Christ, if even the smallest part of her thought it was just about   
'bad girls' - how could she not be insecure about Talia who, morally   
speaking, let's face it, makes Catwoman look like Marsha Brady. ...   
I've been a real schmuck, Dad, and I need to make it right."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas smiled with pleasure as his son had finally admitted his   
mistakes to himself as well as to him, "There are advantages to being   
a rich man, Bruce. Not as many as people think, but a few. You owe her   
a thank you, right?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yes," replied Bruce.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You told her you got her something, but you haven't yet,   
have you?" his father asked.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bruce looked down in shame as he admitted, "I had to say   
something to break the ice, and so I made it into a challenge.   
She likes that and I figured that'd give me time to come up with   
something...appropriate."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Get her a really spectacular piece of jewelry," advised his father.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bruce gave a nobody-understands-my-problems look of mock self-pity.   
"It's Catwoman that has a thing for jewelry, Dad, I've got to make it   
up to Selina!" he told his father.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas sighed as he once again lectured his son, ""Don't be   
impertinent. Bruce, I'm an older and wiser man and I'm giving you   
good advice. They all like jewelry."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A few hours later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas came into the Victorian parlor with exhaustion as his aunt   
read the latest medical journal, "Thank heaven that is finally over with!   
Now all I have to do is straighten Richard out!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," muttered Aunt Louise as she   
read the journal.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"And why, pray tell, is that?" he questioned with curiosity.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well," she explained as she looked up from the journal, "While you   
and Bruce were having a long over-due talk, I went to Barbara, and suggested   
to her to make Richard as jealous as he made her."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"How is she going to make him jealous?" Thomas asked with   
dread in his voice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh, give him the silent treatment," she replied, "And flirt   
openly with...what is that boy's name...(snap) Azeral! That's the   
boy's name, or is it Jean-Paul Valley?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Thomas Wayne stared in amazement at his aunt, and then groaned   
out loud, "Heaven, help the boy! I cannot wait until Martha gets back!   
She can deal with these romantic entanglements!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The End...Martha comes back in the next chapter...  
which is a special Halloween one... 


	4. Day of the Dead

I do not own any of these characters,  
someone else does. This is based on  
Chris Dee's Cat-Tails universe as  
well as JLAin't: The Other Side   
by MyklarCure. Hope you enjoy  
the story...  
  
  
  
Day of the Dead  
  
  
  
by Frog  
  
  
  
Time in the Cat-Tales universe: 4 weeks after "Satori".  
  
  
All Hallow's Eve (October 30), 11:45 p.m.  
  
  
Place: Outside the Old Magnolia Hotel, on the east side   
of Gotham City.  
  
  
  
  
Edward Nigma sighed sadly as he strolled into   
the abandoned hotel. 'Life is not fair! Everyone seems   
to be dating someone -- except me!' he silently thought   
to himself as he walked toward the closed doors of the   
hotel ballroom. He was so deep in thought that he ran   
into Kittlemeier as he was coming out of the ballroom.  
  
  
  
  
"Mr Riddler!" shouted a surprised Kittlemeier, "  
What are you doing here?"  
  
  
  
"What are *you* doing here?" he echoed,   
equally shocked.  
  
  
  
"I was just leaving a party," replied Kittlemeier.  
  
  
  
"A party?" cried Riddler, "That's just the thing   
to cheer me up!"  
  
  
  
"Wait!" yelled Kittlemeier as his customer began   
to enter the ballroom, "That iz no ordinary party!"  
  
  
  
"Oh, c'mon, Kittlemeier," he aired with confidence,   
"It can't be that bad..." Riddler trailed off as he saw   
champagne glasses raised in the air by invisible hands; on   
a small stage, instruments moved by themselves as they   
played "October, Op. 37" from Tchaikovsky's "The Seasons."   
Above the stage, a clock chimed the midnight hour...  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, a chorus of "Happy Halloween!" rang through   
the room as people in various old-fashioned clothes appeared   
in the room, holding the champagne glasses; men in 18th-century   
apparel were now holding as well as playing the instruments.  
  
  
  
Riddler gasped in shock as he began to realize that   
the people in the room were not only wearing out-of-date  
clothing, but they were also in various states of decay.   
Not only that, but most of them appeared to have fatal   
wounds; however, they were walking or dancing around the   
room as if the wounds no longer mattered to them. One woman,   
whom he recognized as Sarah Gordon -- James Gordon's late   
wife, killed by the Joker -- was laughing at a joke someone   
had told her, despite the bullet wound in her forehead.  
  
  
  
  
"Mr Riddler?" asked Kittlemeier as he came up to   
stand beside him, "I realize this is quite a zhock for you,   
but if you could just take deep breathz, I can explain   
what you are zeeing."  
  
  
  
"What the devil is *he* doing here?" bellowed a voice   
that sounded like the Caped Crusader.  
  
  
  
Riddler, who by this time was as pale as the ghosts   
around him, turned toward the direction of the voice. "Ahh..."   
he stammered with fear as he turned toward the direction of   
the voice. When his gaze took in the fleshy skeleton of   
Solomon Wayne, he screamed in horror, rolled his eyes,   
and fainted dead to the world.  
  
  
  
  
  
****************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Twenty minutes later,   
in one of the small sitting rooms of the hotel...  
  
  
  
  
Riddler sat timidly in an old lounge chair, cradling his   
cracked forehead, as he listened to the explanation that Kittlemeier   
was giving him. "Ghoztz can only turn back to a more corporeal form   
on Halloween. It lastz for 24 hourz and, during this time, they can   
eat, drink, as anyone who is living. It is alzo during thiz time   
that they can appear to the living without having to rezort to   
entering a living person's dreamz."  
  
  
  
  
"And you're the only one who can see them other than at   
Halloween?" he questioned with curiosity and fear.  
  
  
  
  
"Well, I am not the only one," Kittlemeier replied as he   
shifted in his chair, "But I would appreciate if you did not   
mention it to anyone. That iz the reason I moved to Gotham from   
the Old Country -- people bothering me day and night to contact   
their dead relativez; I could not get any peace!"  
  
  
  
"Don't worry, I won't tell," promised Riddler as he   
thought silently, 'Besides, who would believe me?'  
  
  
  
"Thank you," Kittlemeier breathed in relief.  
  
  
  
"I found her!" shouted a young voice toward the pair.  
  
  
  
Riddler gulped with fear as the 2nd Robin, who appeared   
as bloody as the day he died, dragged a young woman into the   
room. The woman wore a 19th-century nurse's uniform and was   
carrying a black bag. "Robin?" he squeaked in fear.  
  
  
  
"Well, I'm not Nightwing, and I am most definitely not   
my baby brother!" the young hero sarcastically told him.   
"What's wrong? You don't like the way I look? Your friend the   
Joker made the blood a permanent part of my wardrobe!"  
  
  
  
"Robin, that's enough!" lectured Louise Wayne as she   
attempted to look at the injury to Riddler's forehead despite   
his attempts to stop her. "Go find your grandfather."  
  
  
  
"But I want to torment him some more," whined Robin.  
  
  
  
"Robin, get out of here!" she ordered him and then turned   
her attention to her patient. "And you, hold still! That cut is   
going to need stitches!"  
  
  
  
Robin went off in a huff as Riddler yelled, "Stitches!"  
  
  
  
"Yes, stitches," she repeated as she rummaged around her   
black bag, "You're lucky enough that you do not have a concussion!   
Now, hold still!"  
  
  
  
  
Whimpering with fear, Riddler closed his eyes and obeyed her command.  
  
  
  
  
  
***************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"There now," muttered Louise as she put away her instruments,   
"That wasn't so bad, now was is?"  
  
  
  
"No," replied Riddler as he rubbed his forehead in pain.  
  
  
  
"You will have to leave those stitches in for a few days,   
then go to the doctor to have them taken out," she told him as   
she prepared to leave the room. She commented to Kittlemeier,   
"You'd better tell him about the more... unfriendly spirits   
around the area. Now that he knows that we exist, it's only   
fair to warn him."  
  
  
  
Dah," he replied, "Thank you."  
  
  
  
As she left the lobby, Riddler asked, "What was that about?"  
  
  
  
"Ah," answered Kittlemeier; "Well... there is one little   
thing I forgot to mention to you. Halloween is also the only time   
a zpirit can become fully alive again without going through   
re-incarnation. A ghozt can do this by the power of true love or..."  
  
  
  
  
"Or?" he echoed as Kittlemeier hesitated.  
  
  
  
"Or by tricking a living person into trading places with   
the zpirit," he finished reluctantly. "But do not worry! That   
last option is forbidden in the zpirit community, and there is a   
ghoztly police force that makes sure that no zpirit will do   
such a ghaztly thing!"  
  
  
  
"And just how successful is this so-called police force   
in enforcing that particular law?" questioned the Riddler   
with apprehension.  
  
  
  
"Not too well," admitted Kittlemeier.  
  
  
  
Riddler groaned as he sunk lower into his chair, "That's   
what I thought," he muttered with worry.  
  
  
  
"Well, it's not like we have a Batman working with us!"   
yelled a feminine voice.  
  
  
  
Riddler gulped in terror as Sarah Gordon walked toward   
the pair, "Hello, Zarah," Kittlemeier greeted the recently   
deceased spirit, "How are you thiz evening?"  
  
  
  
"I was fine until this scumbag had to show up!" replied   
Sarah as she pointed an accusing finger at the Riddler, "What   
are you doing here, Nigma?"  
  
  
  
"Well," he answered, uncomfortable, "I wanted to go   
somewhere quiet and ponder how everyone I know is dating   
someone and I'm not!"  
  
  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes as she muttered, "Wonderful!   
Just what I need to hear -- a sex-deprived criminal!"  
  
  
  
"Hey," protested Riddler, "I am not sex-deprived!   
I just want someone to love!"  
  
  
  
"Whatever! Just stay out of my sight!" she warned as   
she left the room.  
  
  
  
"C'mon, Mr. Riddler," said Kittlemeier, "It'z nearly   
1 o'clock in the morning. I'll walk you home."  
  
  
  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
October 31, 12:00 a.m.  
Selina Kyle's apartment...  
  
  
  
  
Whiskers raced underneath the bed in fear, disturbing   
Nutmeg, who was sleeping on Selina's costume, What is wrong?   
asked Nutmeg as he stretched his forelegs.  
  
  
  
  
She's back! And she brought a friend! whimpered   
Whiskers in fear.  
  
  
  
  
Who? Selina Two-Foots? questioned Nutmeg anxiously.  
  
  
  
  
No, it's the cold, spooky Two-Foots! he replied to his friend.  
  
  
  
  
Woof! yelped Nutmeg in horror.  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, the bed covers lifted and the face of Martha Wayne   
appeared to the two cats, "You both realize that I can understand you,   
don't you?" she asked the cats sarcastically. "I am not alive any more,   
and your meows make perfect sense to me. I suggest you two start   
getting used to the idea of having ghosts around your territory. Sooner   
or later -- and I pray to the highest reaches of Heaven for the former!   
-- Bruce and Selina are going to be married; which means that she, as   
well as you two, will move to Wayne Manor. So I suggest you start   
getting used to the idea -- agreed?"  
  
  
  
Both cats nodded their agreement; they were too afraid   
to say anything out loud. "Good," muttered Martha as she raised   
herself from the floor.  
  
  
  
"Poor dears," muttered Mary Grayson as she stood outside   
the bedroom. "They just do not like having us around."  
  
  
  
"Tell me, what creature *does* like having a ghost around them?"   
questioned Martha as she opened Selina's closet.  
  
  
  
"None that I know of," answered Mary, "Are you sure Selina will   
not be back for a few hours? I would hate having to explain to her what   
we're doing here. By the way... you never did explain what we *are*   
doing here."  
  
  
  
"Selina has gone to the Mad Hatter's hide-out to pay him back   
for what he did to her at the museum," Martha replied. "And as for   
what we are doing here, I am trying to determine her size for the   
blouse I am going to make for her as a Christmas present."  
  
  
  
"You also want to determine her dress size for her   
wedding dress -- correct?" guessed Mary.  
  
  
  
"Mmm, yes," agreed Martha as she browsed through the clothes   
that were hanging in the closet, "Just don't tell Thomas. He believes   
I've interfered enough in Bruce's personal life."  
  
  
  
"I won't," she promised with a twinkle in her eye. "As long   
as we can stop by Barbara's place on the way home. I need to   
double-cheek my measurements for *her* dress size."  
  
  
  
Martha laughed in delight. "Done! I've said it once,   
and I'll say it again: I'm proud to have you in our family,   
Mary Grayson!"  
  
  
  
Mary smiled as she returned the compliment. "The same   
goes for me, Martha Wayne! Now, let's see how we can... encourage...   
our sons to go down the aisle!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*****************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
5:00 p.m.  
Wayne Manor...   
in an old Victorian parlor...  
  
  
  
  
"What do you think they're up to?" asked Jason as he munched   
on a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes that he sneaked away from his   
brothers, who had to answer an emergency call from police headquarters  
and, as a consequence, left their supper on the kitchen table. Batman   
was on monitor duty at the Watchtower, and he had taken Catwoman with   
him for company; Alfred, after finishing cooking the pancakes, had   
left for his date with the theater producer that he met while   
participating in a local play.  
  
  
  
  
"I don't know," answered John Grayson as he read the evening   
paper. "I don't *want* to know!"  
  
  
  
"More than likely, your grandmother and Mary are trading   
match-making tips with each other," commented Thomas Wayne as he   
entered the room carrying two brandies. "Brandy, John?"  
  
  
  
"Yes, thank you," he replied as took the glass and gave   
the traditional toast: "Eat, drink, and be merry!"  
  
  
  
"For tomorrow we die! Salute!" finished Thomas as   
he clicked his glass to John's. "When is Haley's Circus   
leaving town?"  
  
  
  
John drowned his brandy in one gulp and then answered,   
"Ah, first thing in the morning. We won't be back until June   
of next year; I could probably 'persuade' Mr Haley to come   
early though, if there is to be a certain wedding here."  
  
  
  
"Bruce's or Dick's wedding?" asked Jason as he swallowed   
his last piece of pancake.  
  
  
  
"It doesn't matter," he replied, "Though, I must admit,   
I hope it will be *my* son's marriage. Just don't tell my wife --   
it will give her ideas."  
  
  
  
"I won't," promised Jason and Thomas in unison.  
  
  
  
"Good. So... Jason, are you ready to go trick-or-treating?"   
John asked the young boy.  
  
  
  
"You bet!" he exclaimed with excitement. "Is Grandpa   
Solomon coming with us?"  
  
  
  
"No!" sighed his grandfather with relief. "Grandpa Solomon   
is hanging around Bruce and Selina this evening; he wants to see   
if Selina will meet his requirements to become part of this family."  
  
  
  
"Won't they see him?" questioned John in confusion.   
"It is Halloween."  
  
  
  
Thomas sighed with weariness as he explained, "Grandpa   
Solomon is a very old and powerful spirit. He will not be seen   
by anyone living unless he *wants* the living to see him."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, at the Watchtower...  
  
  
  
  
  
"He's a snake," commented Catwoman as she sat in her lover's   
lap. She and Batman were watching President Luthor's interview with   
Larry King on CNN. Although she was tempted to seduce her lover,   
she knew that any hero who decided to come up and 'check up' on what   
was going on in the monitor room could interrupt them at any moment.  
  
  
  
  
Unknown to the two lovers, someone was *already* in the   
monitor room. "Well, at least she's better than that Vale woman,"   
commented Solomon Wayne. "She had no political sense whatsoever!"  
  
  
  
"Batman, I want to discuss with you-- What is *she* doing   
up here?" questioned Wonder Woman as she came into the room.  
  
  
  
"What does it look like, Princess?" Selina replied to   
the Amazon. "I'm watching Larry King interview the President.  
  
  
  
"She has class," observed the spirit with interest.  
  
  
  
"Kitten," Batman warned his girlfriend quietly before   
speaking to Wonder Woman. "What she is doing up here is none   
of your business, Diana. What do you want?"  
  
  
  
"I came up to check my duty logs for the last week.   
I figured I'd stick my head in and see if you needed   
anything," she replied as her eyes narrowed in suspicion at  
Catwoman.  
  
  
  
"From what I hear, The King of the Seven Seas is   
handling your 'needs,'" hissed Catwoman, narrowing her   
eyes at the other woman in anger.  
  
  
  
"Excellent!" shouted Solomon Wayne as he clapped his   
hands with appreciation, "A strong woman who can bear more   
of my descendents into this new century!"  
  
  
  
"If you will excuse me," muttered Diana as she   
left the room with a huff.  
  
  
  
  
Silently following behind the Amazon Princess,   
Solomon commented, "Martha was right; the girl is   
perfect for the boy! I've seen enough here. I better   
follow that young lady in order to make sure she does   
not spoil a perfect, romantic evening for my descendent   
and his young lady!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
November 1, 12:01 p.m.  
The Wayne Family Cemetery...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(Yawn) "Well, I must say this has been a most enjoyable   
Halloween," Martha told her husband as she settled back into her   
coffin. "Don't you think so, dear?"  
  
  
  
"Enjoyable," he muttered sleepily.  
  
  
  
"What about you, Jason?" she asked her grandson,   
"Did you have a good Halloween?"  
  
  
  
(Yawn) "Terrific," he mumbled wearily, "Grandma, can I   
sleep with you and Grandpa? I don't feel so good."  
  
  
  
"Of course, dear," she agreed, "Is that all right   
with you, Thomas?"  
  
  
  
"Fine with me," he replied as Jason drifted into his   
grandmother's coffin and snuggled up against her. "I told   
you, Jason. You shouldn't eat so much before midnight."  
  
  
  
Jason did not respond to this comment; he was already   
fast asleep and dreaming of what he could do next Halloween.  
  
  
  
Thomas and Martha Wayne were just about asleep   
themselves when they heard someone singing, "Here comes   
the bride, all dressed in white!"  
  
  
  
They immediately recognized the voice as Solomon Wayne.   
Groaning with weariness, Thomas called out, "I thought you were   
asleep!"  
  
  
  
"I can't sleep!" the old ghost yelled back,   
"I am so happy I could burst!"  
  
  
  
"I wish you would," muttered Martha in annoyance.  
  
  
  
"I heard that!" shouted Solomon gleefully, "But I'll   
forgive you since you found the perfect girl for your son!"  
  
  
  
"Thank you," she replied sarcastically.  
  
  
  
Thinking it was a compliment, Solomon Wayne responded,   
"You're welcome! Selina Wayne has a nice ring to it, don't you   
think?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, rest in peace, you old bat!" yelled Martha as she   
attempted to go back to sleep.  
  
  
  
"Hmph!" muttered Solomon, "Some people just don't like   
to hear the ringing of wedding bells in the air."  
  
  
  
  
The End...  
  
Next up...the Bat Family gathers together for Thanksgiving! 


End file.
